


Not Enough

by wth_am_i_writing



Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, F/M, POV Second Person, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Social Anxiety, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:37:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wth_am_i_writing/pseuds/wth_am_i_writing
Summary: You felt like such a waste of Hongbin’s time; You honestly didn’t know why he bothers with you.





	Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted on Tumblr on November 9, 2014.
> 
> Original Author’s Note: I wasted so much more time on this than I should have… But I was having some rather persistent and deep rooted body image issues that I felt needed to be written out. Most of the other ideas were actually a lot more sad than this, but since I had another fic born from similar feelings, “Do Better”, I thought I should make this a kinda far-future sequel to that fic. I think a lot of people also misunderstood “Do Better”, so in a way, I hope this clears it up, too… In short, this fic is deeply personal, along the vein that “Odd One Out” was >.<

You stepped in front of the mirror, tugging at your dress to make sure everything sat on you where it was supposed to. The moment you looked up, you swallowed in disappointment. You tugged at the bottom hem of your dress, shifting uncomfortably as your mood crashed down. The dress was too snug now, the weight you’d gained in recent weeks feeling all too obvious in how the dress clung. Turning in the mirror to see yourself from different angles only made you feel worse. You stepped away from the mirror, reaching for the zipper on the back of the dress and pulling it down. That dress had always been one of your favorites, had always made you feel sexy and confident, but now it just wouldn’t cut it. You had to look your best, had to look stunning.

Dropping the dress to the ground, you headed back to your closet to shift through your clothes. You located the only little black dress in your wardrobe and attempted to slip it on, almost breaking down when you realized it was too small to zip up. You dropped the dress to the ground and stepped away from your closet, bringing your hands up to your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. There was definitely something in your closet that you could wear tonight and actually look decent in. Surely if not a dress, a skirt and blouse combo–and if not that, surely you could somehow make pants work? No, no, pants were definitely out. This wasn’t a pants occasion.

You spun around and began digging through your closet. You found a blue and black block print dress and yanked it out, slipping it on. Smoothing it out, you went back over to the mirror, immediately stepping away again as soon as you saw your reflection. It looked even worse than your favorite dress. As you tugged it off, your phone buzzed. Once back in your underwear, you darted across the room to grab it, heart racing.

_7:18PM “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes!”_

You threw your phone on your bed, groaning in frustration. You hadn’t even gotten to your makeup and he’d arrive in twenty minutes. You crossed back to your closet and began digging through it until you found a tight fitting black skirt. You pulled it on then dug until you found a matching black cami and a long, flowy sheer black and red block print tank. You pulled the two on, taking your time tucking the cami into your skirt. You stepped back in front of the mirror, smoothing out the sheer tank. Yes, this would work. It looked elegant, as if you were wearing a dress, but most importantly, it hid your stomach and and all those annoying curves of yours. Your legs looked killer even if the rest of you didn’t, and it was a vast improvement from the other dresses.

Knowing you didn’t have much time left, you hurried to the bathroom to fix your makeup and hair. You did the absolute best you could in the fifteen minutes you had. Stepping back from the sink, you resettled your glasses on your nose. Still not as good as you’d like, but the problem was less the makeup and more your face, which just couldn’t be fixed. Worrying the inside of your lip, you went back to your room and picked up your phone to check your messages.

_7:34PM “I’m outside <3”_

You panicked, looking at the time–7:39PM–you’d kept him waiting. The phone lit up again in your hand as another message came in.

_7:39PM “It’s chilly outside_ _ㅠㅠ_ _Aren’t you ready?”_

You jerked back, grabbing your red pumps and clutch and hurrying to the door. Slipping into your heels, you took your nice coat from the rack and wrapped yourself inside. After shoving your keys, phone and wallet in your clutch, you straightened your hair and pulled the door open.

Your breath was stolen away instantly.

Perfection.

Sheer perfection.

You couldn’t have expected anything else.

Hongbin looked up at you, a wide, awkward smile spreading across his lips. His expression was so bright it was almost blinding. He stole your words away. Something rustled and he spoke.

“I brought you flowers.” You dropped your gaze to see said bouquet.

“Flowers?” you asked dumbly, reaching out to take them from his outstretched arms.

“It’s overdone, I know,” he apologized, drawing your gaze back up. His smile had turned sheepish. “But tonight just felt like it needed something so lame… Ahhh, I can’t explain it well.”

“No, I get it,” you murmured, dropping your gaze again. You didn’t really care for flowers, but no one had ever given you a bouquet before. The gesture itself was a lot more meaningful than the actual gift, causing you to flush. You forced yourself to look back up at Hongbin, taking in his tight fit suit and carefully groomed hair and makeup. Your stomach churned. You felt like this was so wrong, like you shouldn’t have been the one opening the door, like he shouldn’t have been the one at your door, like this date wasn’t supposed to be happening at all.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” you apologized when your gaze met Hongbin’s, pulling the bouquet in close to your body. “I didn’t see your message until just a moment ago.”

“It’s fine. It was worth the wait,” he grinned. “You look good.” A lie, you were sure. You shook your head in denial. He stepped closer to you, leaning in and reaching up for your neck, but he paused half leaned in and straightened stiffly. “I’ll ruin your lipgloss…” he said awkwardly, shifting and looking away.

“I can always reapply it,” you dared to say, coaxing his smile back.

“There’s plenty of time for ruining it later, right?” Later, after a bottle of wine, liquid goggles, liquid courage, liquid pacifier.

“Yeah, we have all night.” Hongbin’s smile widened and his gaze lit up at the vaguely guised promise of sex.

“Should we go? The reservation time is soon.”

“Y-yeah, just let me put this down,” you stuttered, nodding to the bouquet, chest clenching.

“A-ah, yeah, of course,” Hongbin urged, fidgeting as if he’d forgotten he’d given you the flowers. You turned around and placed the bouquet on the small table you had in your entranceway. After securing the lock, you stepped outside and closed the door. Hongbin took your arm in his, escorting you to the restaurant.

On the train, you could feel the stares. You tried to distract yourself by looking around, by quietly telling Hongbin about the last couple of days. The onlookers must have been wondering what a man like Hongbin was doing with a woman like you. Surely they’d never guess that he was your boyfriend, that you were on your way to celebrate your one year anniversary.

Hongbin didn’t seem to notice the stares of the people around you, of the women devouring him with their eyes. Surely, he was used to those looks by now, could just brush them off. His attention was fully on you, as if no one else was on the train. He smiled gently when you mentioned the good things from the last few days and laughed quietly when you told him that’d you’d been so late to class yesterday, you’d almost ran out of the house without shoes or socks on–he found the story so amusing he crumpled, fingers slowly curling into fists as he buried his face in your shoulder, trying not to make a scene and failing, drawing more curious stares.

The restaurant was a nice Italian place with mood lighting and cozy tables for two lining the walls. Hongbin helped you out of your coat as the hostess placed the menus on the table and left. Quickly hobbling over to a chair and draping your coat over the back, he pulled the chair out with an embarrassed grin, ears turning pink.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he murmured, licking his lips, pausing as he looked down at the seat of the chair, the back pressed against him. You honestly couldn’t believe he was either, not for someone like you. “It’s so… sappy.”

“You don’t have to if you think it’s too embarrassing,” you soothed with a smile that you didn’t think reached your eyes. You didn’t need those kinds of sweetness; the fact that Hongbin even bothered with you was miracle enough to help you push through everyday. Such sappy behavior was unlike him anyway. He was so easily embarrassed that in the past, even the thought of doing something like pulling out a chair for someone made him cringe.

“But I want tonight to be spe–” He looked up at you, eyes widening as he took in your appearance in full for the first time since you’d met, your coat no longer in the way of the clothes underneath. “–cial,” he finished after a beat. He swallowed, the mixed expression on his face making you squirm under his gaze. “Your dress is really pretty.” You dropped your gaze to the chair. Lies.

“Thanks,” you murmured, quickly sitting down. Hongbin pushed your chair in, his hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder lovingly before he pulled away to sit himself. You immediately buried your nose in the menu. When the waiter came to take drink orders, Hongbin chose a bottle of something sweet and fruity with a name that was so gooely romantic he stuttered three times trying to say it then handed the wine menu to the waiter with a grin so sweet and blinding that you felt yourself flush red.

You read the menu in mutual silence. For a moment you thought of ordering a salad; you’d gained so much weight lately from stress eating and you really needed to reign it in. The stares and whispers would only increase if you gained more weight– _What is such a good looking man doing with such a fat plane jane?_ Honestly, you wondered that even now and fought to push those thoughts down. In the end, you caved and ordered the cheesiest thing on the menu, feeling a bit of regret at the choice until it was placed in front of you and you took the first bite of bliss.

You lost yourself in the conversation that sprung up, in the sound of his voice, the depths of his eyes, the warmth of his hand on yours, the playful kicks and nudges under the table. Hongbin’s smile as he talked about the series of photos he’d just started yesterday and lifted his wine to his lips stole your breath again. You caught yourself wondering how you hadn’t scared him off yet with how quiet, direct, strange and blunt you could be. Suddenly you remembered how the girl that sat next to you in Great English Plays Before the Turn of the Millenia class had leaned over and murmured, _“You must be one hell of a cocksucker, ‘cause I can’t think of any other reason why he’d stay with someone like you.”_

Shaking the thoughts off, you dropped your gaze to your hands intertwined on the table. His hands weren’t much bigger than yours, so oddly small for his height (or maybe yours were large for a woman?) but they were soft and warm and his grip was strong and reassuring.

The conversation drifted to the play he’d started rehearsing two weeks ago. Hongbin lamented that his character was a lot harder to understand than the last role he’d played and you fired back that you preferred this character to the last–though Hongbin and his character’s personalities were quite different, this one had much more presence and growth through the play than his last role. You dissolved into debating that nature of Hongbin’s and the other characters in the play, forgetting about your surroundings and finishing off the bottle of wine.

Hongbin paid for dinner and pulled you down a small alley to a quaint little coffee shop for dessert. A large slice of cake and two cups of coffee in hand, you found the most cozy corner of the shop. Hongbin sat down next to you, eyes scanning the room before looking at his coffee with a smile, looking uncomfortable in his skin as he so often did. His discomfort dissolved away when the conversation started picking up again. He let you dominate the conversation, listening intently as he sipped his coffee, staring at you with wide eyes as dark and warm as his drink.

You split the cake. The first bites were small, selfish, and you sighed at how deliciously rich it was. The second bites were romantic, Hongbin holding out his fork for you to eat off it and you returning the gesture. Hongbin dissolved into giggles at the sappiness of it all before pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. The third bites barely made it your mouths, Hongbin mischievously smashing the forkful of cake into the corner of your mouth with a straight face, his grin breaking out seconds later as you returned the gesture. You saved as much of the cake as you could, eating it unceremoniously with your fingers. After cleaning the icing off each, you finished the cake more sedately.

The trip home was quiet, Hongbin holding your hand securely in his as you leaned against his side. There were less people on the than when you’d gone out, allowing you to relax more. The pace from the station to your apartment was sedate. Hongbin trained his eyes on the dark sky, quietly lamenting that stars weren’t visible in the city. When you finally got to your door, you unlocked it and let him in first.

Shoes and coats off, Hongbin tugged you in close for a kiss. You reciprocated, vaguely regretting that you hadn’t refreshed your lipgloss so he could mess it up. He dropped his suit jacket to the ground then tugged you further inside, breaking the kiss and spinning you in front of him, holding you from behind. Gently, he nudged you towards the bedroom, arms strong around your waist and lips tickling just below your ear. No sooner were you through the door, than he pulled the sheer tank up and over your head, tossing it to the ground. He paused, pulling you tighter against him.

“Mm, it’s messy in here,” he noted, pressing another kiss into your neck. You suddenly remembered the dresses you’d left littered on the floor and flushed.

“I-I couldn’t pick a dress,” you stuttered, all those nasty worries of yours creeping back into your mind.

“The one you picked is really sexy,” he murmured, kissing down your neck, pausing over the spot that drove you wild to suck and making you squirm. His hands roved your sides and stomach. The urge to stop him overwhelmed you, causing you to bring your hands to his wrists. You shouldn’t have eaten the cake–you should have been a good girl and had salad and plain coffee–maybe then you would feel even just a little less fat and ugly. You pried his hands off you and stepped away, moving to pull the cami from your skirt.

You balked, feeling extremely self conscious, thoughts diving even darker. Hongbin’s last four girlfriends before you had all be insanely gorgeous, had rivaled him, had complimented him. You’d watched him from a distance for two years just like all the other women at your university, watched him flit from beautiful flower to beautiful flower. He could have anyone, but he was there with you, and you felt so _shitty_ for it because he deserved so much better than you. His everything was wasted on a woman like you. At least your body was all hidden beneath your dress, but when both of you were naked together it would be obvious, so, so obvious that you didn’t match. And going out–he’d been so sweet, gone way past his comfort zone for you, paid for an expensive dinner, and you’d done almost nothing. You didn’t match. You didn’t match at all.

“Honey?” Hongbin called out to you, stepping around you. His hands came to yours and tugged your camisole out of your skirt, lips meeting yours and attempting to draw your attention back to him. You tried to let everything go, tried to melt back into his lips, but you stiffened when he started to tug your camisole up further to get at your skin. Hongbin paused, pulling back and looking at you in concern.

“Are you ok?” he asked. You shook your head, stepping back slightly and wrapping your arms around yourself. “Should we stop?” You nodded, feeling even worse. This wasn’t the first time you’d stopped things like this. You could count the number of times you’d gone all the way with Hongbin on your fingers, but that wasn’t because there wasn’t opportunity or desire. You wanted him, wanted him _so_ bad. You just couldn’t wrap it around your head that he could possibly be attracted to you even after a year. Nothing about you was attractive, not your looks, not your personality, and letting him look at you made you feel even more self conscious.

“Let’s go watch a movie in the living room,” Hongbin suggested, shifting awkwardly, the wheels in his head spinning.

“I’m not good enough for you,” you breathed.

“Huh?” His brows knit together in confusion.

“I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“Put up with you? Aren’t you the one putting up with me?” You looked up at him in confusion.

“Th-there’s nothing to put up with about you,” you stuttered. “But m-me, I– The other girls you’ve dated–” Hongbin shuffled so he was looking to your side and shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

“Before we started going out, I’d never dated someone longer than three months,” Hongbin admitted. “The others all dumped me because I wasn’t the person they thought I was.” He snorted, a grin breaking out across his lips. “But I guess that’s what kept us together, huh?” You shifted, remembering how you’d ended up dating in the first place. “I had to ask you out three times before you believed it wasn’t a joke.”

“I still don’t really believe it,” you admitted quietly. “And everyone else can’t either…” Your voice had dropped down even quieter with those words.

“Is…” Hongbin started but trailed off, shifting awkwardly, his whole demeanor becoming nervous. “Is this because of how you look again?” You shifted anxiously, hugging yourself tighter. Hongbin sighed in frustration, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms. “When you’re like this, I hate my face even more than normal,” he murmured into your hair, giving you a squeeze.

“You shouldn’t–” you started.

“I love you.” You snapped your mouth shut, too caught off guard by the words. It was the first time he’d ever said those words to you. “I want you.” You squirmed, bringing your hands up to grip his shirt. “I got so turned on at the restaurant when I saw you without your coat, I started to get hard.” You flushed at the words, your face feeling like it was on fire. “And I–” he squeezed you tighter, “I can’t believe I just admitted that. It’s so embarrassing.”

“R-really?”

“I– Yeah.” He squirmed in that way you knew he only did when embarrassed beyond belief, his fingers curling into your cami.

“Hongbin?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I-I love you too.” He squeezed you so hard you felt like he’d crush you.

“I _really_ want to make love you to.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I do too.”


End file.
